Survival of the Toughest
by AuthoressSama
Summary: Captain Kirkland's ship is damaged and he has to make a stop in a New York harbor. When Alfred F. Jones refuses to fix Arthur's ship, will Arthur turn away or will he go west and use force? Not a yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or anything affiliated with it. **

**Summary: **Captain Kirkland's ship is damaged and he has to make a stop in a New York harbor. When Alfred F. Jones refuses to fix Arthur's ship, will Arthur turn away or will he go west and use force? This fanfiction is not a yaoi. 

Survival of the Toughest

Brilliant, emerald eyes peaked open from beneath dirty blonde eyelashes. They scanned the wooden room for a sign of movement. The pirate who possessed those green eyes was none other than the most feared pirate that has ever sailed the seven seas: Captain Arthur Kirkland. Arthur sat up from his bed and glanced out the porthole to find an estimate as to what time it was. Since there were only hints of light shining through the clouds, Arthur concluded that dawn was approaching. A thin wave of anger swept over him, because something woke him up.

A cannon ball shot through the captain's cabin, narrowly missing Arthur's tired figure. The captain scrunched his pale nose up in annoyance as his emerald eyes flashed with realization. He heard the accents that had stormed aboard his ship: French and Spanish. Arthur stood and stormed over to his desk. With a few swift movements, he had clothed himself. For the final touch, Arthur wrapped his gloved fingers around the brim of his incredulously gaudy hat and placed it firmly on his head. He secured a sword sheath to his waist before slamming open the doors that led out onto the deck. His flashing, emerald eyes met with France's flirtatious gaze and Spain's green, gold flecked eyes.

"You each ruined my sleep," Arthur's British accented voice snarled. He ignored the various pirates that ran around gutting each other and kept his glare in line with his arch nemeses.

"Pardonnons-nous, mon ami," Capitaine Francis Bonnefoy's voice chimed as his hand rested on his chest, "Capitán Antonio Carriedo and I have only just decided to destroy a common enemy."

Capitán Carriedo nodded with a friendly smile, "Si, we thought it'd be easier for all of us this way – except for you, that is." Both the Spanish and French pirates stood with a complete air of confidence. They were sure that this dawn would be the last they would see of Captain Kirkland.

The British captain stared at them, annoyed and displeased. Due to his fatigue, Captain Kirkland's stance was very relaxed and a bit shaky. With venom in his voice, the captain spoke, "You are both fools to team up this way against me. Leave my ship now or suffer the consequences." He ignored the crewmembers of three different countries fighting and cussing around them.

"Very well, dear Arthur, we are warned," Capitaine Bonnefoy's arms waved about casually and in tune with his tone.

Captain Kirkland glared, "You are promised." He nodded his head towards Capitaine Bonnefoy's ship, "Go back to your cute, little boat, Bonnefoy." Capitaine Bonnefoy shook his head and with a smile, he drew forth his sword and darted at Kirkland, his sword aimed at the British captain's heart. Captain Kirkland leapt up and onto the hilt of Capitaine Bonnefoy's sword with one foot. He took Capitaine Bonnefoy's pause of surprise to stomp on his face and leap up and flip over Capitán Carriedo. The British captain held his ground and faced Capitán Carriedo's back.

With a sudden yelp, Capitaine Bonnefoy fell to the wooden deck. He sat up and rubbed his face where the heel of Captain Kirkland's boot dug into his face. Capitán Carriedo turned and drew his sword. He moved into a stance, preparing to engage in swordplay against Captain Kirkland. Captain Kirkland drew his sword slowly and took his stance against Capitán Carriedo. The pair of green eyes gazed at each other deeply just before the Spaniard thrusted his sword forward. The Brit clashed his sword against the Spaniard's and the two captains began their swordplay.

From where Capitaine Bonnefoy sat, it looked as if the other two captains were engaged in a graceful dance with their swords clanging in tune with their movements. He stood and brushed himself off, careful to avoid Capitán Carriedo's and Captain Kirkland's swordplay. His sapphire eyes glanced at both his ship and Capitán Carriedo's ship. With a gasp, Capitaine Bonnefoy called out his ally's name, "Capitán Carriedo!"

When Capitán Carriedo jumped back from Captain Kirkland's slash, he glanced back at Capitaine Bonnefoy, curious as to why the Frenchman was darting a finger out at the choppy sea. Capitán Carriedo looked at the boats and then gave out a short yell. Both the Spanish and French crews were aboard their respective ships and were starting to sail off, leaving their captains. Captain Kirkland stifled a laugh, but held his smirk. "It looks as if your crews don't think they can handle mine."

Capitán Carriedo sheathed his sword and turned to the mast. He took hold of the roped ladder and prepared to climb. Captain Kirkland's sword kissed Capitán Carriedo's throat as Captain Kirkland's voice sang out, "Uh, uh."

"Capitán Carriedo," Capitaine Bonnefoy yelled, causing Capitán Carriedo to lean back drastically. Captain Kirkland looked at Capitaine Bonnefoy just in time to see the Frenchman's pistol shoot. Since Capitaine Bonnefoy was not the best of shots, he had managed to accidently shoot Captain Kirkland's left hand instead of his main torso.

Capitán Carriedo took this time to scramble up the rope ladder with Capitaine Bonnefoy right behind him. "Gracias, Capitán Bonnefoy," He yelled down to his partner before reaching the crow's nest.

"Tu es les bienvenus, Capitaine Carriedo," Capitaine Bonnefoy hurriedly spoke as he stood up beside Capitán Carriedo. The Spaniard handed Capitaine Bonnefoy a long section of rope and held onto his own section tightly.

Captain Kirkland dropped his sword and clutched his hand as he glared up at the two captains. He yelled out his command, "Open fire!" With bullets flying about them, the Spanish and French captains pushed off the edge of the crow's nest as hard as possible, causing them to fall far into the air. The ropes were yanked, pulling up the sail and pulling the two captains across the deck. The two swung up, just above the decks of their own ships and released the rope. With a thud, the two captains landed on their own ships. They stood and laughed at their accomplishment, leaving Captain Kirkland to scowl at them. The two sailed away towards the sun, back to Europe.

Captain Kirkland stood and ordered the most competent crew member to dress his wound. The crew member waited for Captain Kirkland to shed his dark glove and then wrapped his captain's hand tightly while listening to his cursing. "That damn frog and Spaniard," Captain Kirkland hissed. "As soon as I get back to Europe, I'll have their heads on a spit." Throughout this one-sided conversation, the crew member wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

After the dressing of his wound was done, Captain Kirkland put his black glove back on again and stormed out onto the deck. He watched his crew try to salvage what was left. With a frustrated sigh, he turned towards the west to see land off in the distance. "I'm afraid we'll have to stop at that harbor," Captain Kirkland muttered under his breath.

A crew member that was nearby questioned, "What's wrong with that harbor, Captain?"

Without taking his eyes off the land, he answered, "It just so happens that it's the New York harbor." He hesitantly commanded his crew to lower the sails and ride the wind towards the harbor and his crew loyally obeyed. The pirate ship eased into the harbor. Its slow sailing only added onto the fear and anticipation that seeped into the citizens' minds. As they saw the ship approach, mothers urged their children inside the house while the men made their way over to the docks, preparing to destroy a possible threat. Captain Kirkland gazed at the men, half-interested in what they had to say or do. The other half of him was fixated on tying the ship to the dock and dreading to see the Spirit of Rebelliousness at work. The Brit knew full well that he was literally strolling into dangerous territory as he was walking down to the dock. He kept his arms swaying at his sides as he walked past the grimacing Americans and he kept his face completely emotionless. He hurried his pace as he made it out of the crowd of men and towards the town hall. The pirate pushed the large, wooden door open that led into the town hall and proceeded to walk through the large vestibule.

The inside was modest with a huge American flag hanging directly over a secretary's desk. It made the pirate feel positively ill. He looked down under the flag to see a young man leaning over the secretary desk, conversing with his subordinate with gusto. As the young man spoke, he waved his arms around and his hair shook with excitement.

Captain Kirkland cleared his throat after grimacing at the flag, causing the exuberant blonde to look up. His crystal blue eyes flashed in surprise at the sight of the crimson dressed pirate. The captain's emerald eyes stared coldly at the blonde while the blonde's shocked face slowly morphed into a snide one. "Well, well, well, it seems as if someone of great value and little time has decided to grace my poor, _free_ existence," the blonde's voice that was once fast and light was now slow and venomous.

Captain Kirkland let out a small huff of disapproval, "You should think yourself lucky that I am, Alfred. You don't have enough decency to keep wild pigs from running through your streets." Their eyes stayed at a stalemate as the Brit spoke, "I will speak to you in your office-"

The doors to the town hall slammed open and a flash of yellow darted by Captain Kirkland and stopped directly in front of Alfred. The flash of yellow was an exquisite dress with a hoop skirt. The silk, sunny ribbon held the torso of the dress together just above the wearer's hips. Alfred's eyes widened slightly as his sarcastic look turned into a content one. "Destiny," he smiled brightly, "little sister, what a nice surprise! Is that a new, yellow velvet dress?"

Destiny was quite obviously from the southern United States. Her dirty blonde hair curled elegantly just above her shoulders and her luminous, jade eyes were stern. Her features were kittenish and gave off the very essence of the term 'southern belle'. "Alfred," her soft, southern accented voice broke Captain Kirkland's foul mood, "thank you for your notice in my attire, but I'm here as a representative of my country."

Captain Kirkland thought, '_Country?_' As far as he knew, Alfred and his sister, Destiny, were close. At least they had been when they were fighting against him. The Brit cringed at the thought of the Revolutionary War.

Alfred's expression was slightly pained. "Excuse me," he voice choked out, "but what are you talking about?" He noticed a cruel grin growing across Captain Kirkland's face, but he directed his attention back to Destiny, "As far as I know, you're still part of me."

Destiny shook her head, "No, I'm not. I'm succeeding from you and I want your soldiers to stay out of Charleston Harbor." If she was furious, it didn't show in her voice, "As of now my country is the Confederate States of America. I have a few of the other southern states to back me up on this and we don't want anything to do with you." Her posture faltered only a little as she was stating what she wanted. Noticing this, she immediately corrected her flaw. As a southern representative and a lady, she could not possibly be caught in a moment of imperfection, "You will recognize us as a separate country, big brother."

After a long pause and glances between Captain Kirkland's and Destiny's gazes, Alfred let out a sigh. "Destiny," he began, "I know how you feel about the high taxes." He glanced at Captain Kirkland and then back to his younger sister, "I know that you are angry that I'm telling you that you can't have any slaves, so if you want to be a separate country…" Destiny's eyes widened a little, eager to see Alfred give her want she wanted. "I say to go ahead."

Captain Kirkland's mouth hung open noticeably. He had not expected that reaction. He thought back to the numerous times that Alfred had begged for independence and acted out when he was denied. The captain slowly closed his mouth, waiting to hear for more.

"Destiny," Alfred added, "I'll let you be an independent nation, but one of my Majors has to move some supplies from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. Now, I know you don't want any of my soldiers in Charleston Harbor, but you're going to have to live with this. As long as you don't shoot at me first, you're free," He held up an index finger and spoke slowly and clearly to emphasize his words, "but if you happen to do just that, I'm taking you back whether you like it or not."

Destiny's mouth curled up at the ends, "That sounds fair." Alfred nodded in response. Destiny turned and strolled across the floor. She stopped beside Captain Kirkland and her jade eyes met with his emerald ones. She hesitantly nodded her head and curtsied respectively, "Good noon, Mr. Kirkland."

Captain Kirkland's heart felt a bit lighter. He remembered when Alfred and his sister were mere colonies. Destiny was always close and loyal to Arthur Kirkland. He took a step away from Destiny and bowed to her like a gentleman would. As he removed his hat from his head, he was Arthur Kirkland, the greatest gentleman on the planet and Captain Kirkland, the greatest pirate of the seven seas, was gone, "Good noon, Miss Jones."

They each stood straight like the lady and gentleman they were and the lady continued to walk outside. At the sound of the door closing, Captain Kirkland returned and he sent a look at Alfred, "What in God's name made you grant her independence?"

Alfred walked towards a door to the side of the secretary's desk and he opened it, "We'll talk about it in here." He walked through the doorway and Captain Kirkland could no longer see him.

The Brit walked along the wooden floor and through the doorway, without noticing the secretary's obvious fear of pirates. The captain closed the door behind him and stood in front of his former colony's desk. He asked, "Well? Are you going to tell me why you stupidly let her go?"

Alfred sat down in his chair and leaned back in it. He rested his elbows on the arm rests and laced his fingers together, resting them under his nose. He stared at his desk, purposely ignoring Arthur. At Captain Kirkland's annoyed grunt, Alfred looked up with serious, cerulean eyes, "Yes." His tone caught Arthur off guard, but the pirate did not care to show it. "Yes, I'll tell you _exactly_ what I was thinking." He did not speak, taking in Arthur's changing expression. It began as annoyed and then it turned even more impatient. Suddenly, it showed realization. With a pained smirk, Alfred explained, "Clearly, you know. I remembered becoming an independent country myself and I know how Destiny feels. I was being bossy, with good reason, but she didn't see it – the reason, that is. Naturally, she wanted out. She was sick of the taxes I made her pay for the Revolutionary War and when I said she couldn't have any slaves, she realized that her people wouldn't be able to make any money without them. I gave her plenty of reasons to hate me, but she's my sister. She just wanted to get out of this 'follower' role. She has every right to." His voice trailed off.

Arthur waited for Alfred to speak, but decided to take the job of talking into his own hands when Alfred grew silent, "That can't be all. There must be more to your thought process than just feeling. There's got to be some sense there, too."

Alfred's gaze turned cold and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, because he knew how Arthur hated it. He rested his cheeks in the palms of his hands, causing him to be hunched over, "You'd like to know what helped me to make the decision?"

"For quite a time, now, I've been asking," Arthur hissed, attempting to ignore Alfred's bad manners. He added quickly, "And remove your elbows from the desk's surface. You're such a pig."

Alfred stood and slammed his hands down on his desk, his face a mere foot from Arthur's. He shouted, "Death!" The young man elaborated after waiting a few moments, "I wanted to avoid painful, agonizing death and sadness. I wanted to avoid _war_!" His angered expression relaxed as he stood up straight and fixed his bowtie as a form of distraction. Arthur stared blankly at him. "I know that Destiny is foolish to become her own country and I know we're too annoyed with each other right now to avoid war. I've been trying to make all sorts of agreements with her so that we could avoid it. She's paranoid, so there will be a war," Alfred glanced around his office while explaining. He stared into Arthur's eyes and for the first time, Arthur saw cold, hard logic swimming in them, "and I plan to beat her senseless – so senseless that she'll feel humiliated for even thinking about becoming her own country." He ran a hand through his hair and he relaxed his stance. He sat back down in his seat, "When I'm done beating her, I'm going to welcome her back with open arms. I'm going to be lenient and understanding." He glared at Arthur, "I will be everything that you weren't and we'll be a happy family working together again, united against all injustice." He smiled, "Just like a family of heroes should be."

Arthur, thoroughly taken off guard, closed his gaping mouth. He had never thought Alfred to be so manipulative or cunning. It seemed so evil, the things that Alfred was talking about, but he was doing it to unify his family again – just as Arthur wanted with Alfred. Alfred glanced out the window at the birds that were twittering away in their tree nests. Arthur examined the new, young nation in awe, finally seeing a hint of an adult in him.

Captain Kirkland shook the shock and sensation off and stated why he was in New York in the first place, "Alfred," The only part of Alfred that moved to pay attention was his captivating, blue eyes, "I'm here because my ship is a wreck and I'm wounded. I expect you to fix them both-"

The door to the office opened, interrupting Captain Kirkland, "Mr. Jones, Sir," The secretary poked his head through the empty doorway, "your sister is here. Ally is waiting for you."

A grin appeared on Alfred's face as he leapt up from his seat and hurried out the door. Captain Kirkland stood, staring at the empty chair. Had Alfred really no respect for him?

Captain Kirkland heard Alfred shout, "Ally, my little sister!" He could only imagine his idiotic grin stretching across his face as he gave his sibling a strong, bear hug.

A booming, feminine voice shouted with a heavy western accent, "Howdy, Alfie!" Captain Kirkland's eyes widened. Was it possible for someone to be even louder, stronger, and more ill-mannered than Alfred? No, it couldn't be possible.

Alfred's happy voice rang out when he was done hugging his sister, "Ally, what're you doing here in New York?"

Captain Kirkland heard Ally's boots clop across the wooden floor, "Well, does a girl hafta have a reason to visit her big brother?" Ally's thick accent made Arthur cringe. The exaggerated 'R's and elongated 'A's nearly made his ears bleed. She gave a hearty laugh, "I jus' came up north 'cause I miss ya'll up here! I been all 'round the ol' breadbasket and I figured that ya miss me jus' as much as I miss ya! So here I am." She grinned, almost challenging the length of Alfred's smile.

"You know, Ally, I sometimes worry about you out in the west," Alfred crossed his arms as he watched Ally skip around. "It's so dangerous out there," Alfred felt his chin in thought.

"HA," Arthur covered his mouth, holding back a sarcastic laugh. That was exactly what he had told Alfred when he was a child and now he was telling his sister.

Ally stopped and looked at the doorway, "Who's that?"

Alfred glanced at the doorway into his office and rolled his eyes. "He's just a fisherman, Ally," he dismissed Arthur's laugh and knew full well what he was saying, "Anyway, the west is dangerous."

"Why, Alfie, I am shocked and surprised," Ally rested her hands on her hips, "ya always say that be it a fisherman, slave, or a prince, everyone's important." She laughed, "But ya'll jus' forget, I guess. Besides, the west ain't all dangerous or nothin'. Well, it's only dangerous when I have a hankerin' for some justice. Then it's dangerous – for outlaws!"

The siblings burst out in laughter as Arthur rested his forehead in his palm. Alfred calmed his loud laughter and went on with the conversation, "Did you see Destiny leave?"

"Yeah, I saw her leavin'," Ally had quieted down a bit as well, "She seemed real happy." She shrugged, "Well, her middle name is Joy."

Alfred smiled, "Well, yeah. The three inalienable rights; Life, Liberty, and the right to pursue Happiness make up the code we live by; Freedom, Liberty, and Joy."

Ally nodded and then realized why she had visited Alfred, "I noticed ya'll northerners and southerners fightin' in Kansas. Ya gotta calm down, Alfie. Ya'll are punchin' each other and killin' each other. Ya'll are treatin' each other worse than a hunter treats a 'coon!"

Alfred nodded, "Yeah, I know." He hugged his sister, "I'm sorry for making your precious Kansas bleed, but we're all done with that now." Ally looked at Alfred as if she did not know what her brother was talking about. Alfred released Ally from the hug and explained, "It's just… I just let Destiny become her own country." Ally's azure eyes widened. Alfred continued, "You know how paranoid Destiny is. There's going to be a war. I just know it. I was hoping that you would fight with me on my side."

Ally's heart sank as she sat on the secretary's desk. She rested her right hand on her chest and looked at Alfred as if her heart was just skewered, "Aw, no… I… Well, you know, I… Alfie," her eyes blinked back tears of frustration, "Alfred, you-you're my brother and Destiny – she's – well, she's my sister." Alfred stared into her eyes, waiting for an answer. She bit her lip, "Ya'll are my closest friends and ya'll are m-my family. I-I can't choose, Alfie. Ya'll are very good to me, considerin' the circumstances."

Alfred placed his hands on his hips, "What circumstances?" He had a bad feeling that an often avoided topic was coming up.

Ally stood up and drew her fists to her heart, trying to explain, "I… I'm jus' a territory. I don't think I can fight anyways. How great am I if…if Napoleon sold me ta yer man, Jeff, sixty years ago?"

"Ally," Alfred said sternly, "you are not just a territory. At the time, I thought Jefferson was crazy to use up so much of our money when we had so much debt to pay and I couldn't believe that Napoleon wanted to sell you." He muttered snidely, "I guess Napoleon was so desperate to conquer Europe that he'd sell a golden fortune like you." He rested his right hand against his dear sister's cheek and his thumb pushed an escaped tear aside. "Right now, I'm just glad Napoleon did sell you." The two siblings shared another hug for a few minutes, before Ally departed from it. "Think about fighting alongside me, okay? I want to keep our family united."

Ally nodded quietly, "Yeah." She paused and then went on talking, "Yeah, I'll think about joinin' ya, brother, but remember that I need time to think." Alfred nodded his head in agreement and told her to take her time. Ally smiled and waved, "I'm going on back to Wichita, so long, Alfie."

Alfred returned Ally's smile and wave, "So long, Ally. I wish you a safe journey." She sent a smile in his direction as a form of thank you and he stayed there until his sister had closed the door opposite of him. Alfred sighed and walked back into his office. He sat back down and leaned back in his chair, "What was it you wanted?"

Captain Kirkland decided to seal away his anger that was left over from Alfred ignoring and interrupting him. He yanked off his glove. Alfred saw the bandages and dried blood that originated from Arthur's palm. "You are going to fix my hand and my ship," Captain Kirkland stated in his British accented voice.

Alfred let out a laugh and rubbed his eyes, "That's a good joke." He rested his arms on his chair's armrests and met with Captain Kirkland's gaze. "I will not fix your hand or your ship. Go get someone else to do it. Now, get out of my office," Alfred waved him off, "and get out of New York."

Captain Kirkland glared at Alfred, his anger seething, "You _will_ fix both my hand and my ship."

Alfred leaned forward, his deep tone threatening to dice Arthur's accent, "I will not. Now, skedaddle off before that wounded hand turns into a pair."

Captain Kirkland's anger fumed and begged to be released, but the gentleman in Captain Kirkland, decided that he had a better idea and bottled up the anger. His furious, emerald eyes slowly relaxed and he pulled his glove on again. "Very well," his calm voice spoke, "I will leave New York." Without another word and without a goodbye, Captain Kirkland strolled out of the town hall the same way he strolled in; with a plan.

The captain waltzed back through the swelling crowd at the dock and onto his beloved ship. He called over three members of his crew and had them follow him into his quarters. Captain Kirkland had chosen three men to join him on his short quest. Two of these three men had lean muscle, while the third was strong and robust. The captain knew that the group was close, so they would be extra cautious when things would get tough.

"Men," Captain Kirkland began after the door to his cabin was closed, "Alfred has refused to supply us with what we need to fix this ship," he rummaged through his charts as he explained his plan, "so naturally, I've decided to use force to achieve my goal."

The man with the most muscle questioned, "Are we going to burn down the capital, Captain?"

Captain Kirkland halted his rummaging to stare straight into the man's eyes as if his suggestion was absolutely mental. "No," he finally spoke, "no, that's been done." The captain pulled out a map and spread it out on his desk to reveal the United States of America, "What we're going to do is use force, as I said, but we aren't going to burn anything." He met with the gaze of his crew mates and saw the obvious disappointment in their eyes. With a bit of a groan, he continued, "Alright, we can burn things if it's absolutely necessary. It's a long trip out west and we'll need to steal suitable horses."

One of the lean muscled men asked, "What are we fetching out west, Sir?"

"We're just picking up a little something for Alfred in Wichita, Kansas," Captain Kirkland said with a smirk. He pulled a feather pen out of one of his desk drawers and dipped it in ink. The captain marked an "X" on the map's southeast corner of Kansas.

The second man with lean muscle and the shortest of the group, leaned over the map to see where they would be going, "Captain Kirkland, I thought we were going to Wichita."

"We are," Captain Kirkland rolled the map up and tucked it in his coat, "but we can't be sure where in Wichita our target is. We'll be looking all around. With strong horses, this trip will take around 55 to 60 days in total." He watched his section of crew react. They weren't surprised, as expected. Captain Kirkland knew that they were prepared for anything and everything. There wasn't anything that was going to give him a hard time with those three with him. After all, Captain Kirkland knew the seven seas like the back of his hand and he's tamed them magnificently. How could capturing Ally and roaming across the west be any challenge?

Captain Kirkland informed the rest of his crew to watch the ship while he was out west and to not cause any trouble. The last thing he wanted was to have the Union Army on his tail. Without hesitation, he and his three crew members that he had decided to take with him stole four of the best horses they could find and a good many supplies as well.

After acquiring all supplies needed for the journey to Kansas, the group set out across the new frontier. They stopped to eat and rest, but other than that, they were on their horses every day, all day. Captain Kirkland was determined to finish this quickly.

At noon on the twenty-fifth day, on the way to Wichita, Kansas, Captain Kirkland's seal on his emotional side weakened only a little. He gazed at the trees and the long, flowing grass. It reminded him of when he first arrived on the North American continent. He smiled softly to himself, remembering finding a little infant in the sea of grass. He remembered that he tried his hardest to win him over, but then the Frenchman tried to win over the infant with his glorious cooking. It was all hopeless until the infant chose Arthur instead. His sulking had called the young child over and it made the child want to care for him.

Captain Kirkland gazed at the blue sky, watching the enormous clouds blowing over him. He remembered how young Alfred would claim that he would one day run so fast and jump so high, that he would catch a cloud or a star and wish. Little Alfred, as Arthur recalled, used to be exuberant and a very happy child. He remembered that whenever he had to leave, Alfred was always so against Arthur leaving him. He was in dire need of attention _all_the time. Arthur remembered the day when Alfred had stopped hugging him when he greeted him. He remembered that Alfred had gradually grown apart from him and he recalled the first fight they had. Quite obviously, it hurt to think about and so, Arthur held a stiff upper lip and Captain Kirkland decided to tuck his more emotional side away for safe keeping.

Captain Kirkland looked up at the trail ahead of him and noticed that a town was in the distance. With a smirk, he announced to the rest of his miniature crew, "There she is, Lads! Wichita, Kansas!" He heard his men cheer briefly to show that they were indeed happy to finally rest. His crew slowed their horses down as he kicked into the horse's hide to force it to run faster.

"S-Sir," the shortest crew mate with lean muscle called after Arthur, "you shouldn't tire the horse like that! We still need it to get back to the ship!"

Captain Kirkland laughed at his crew mate's worry. "Oh, please," he yelled, "a little hard work won't kill this fine horse!" The captain was the first to arrive at a saloon. With ease, he hopped off his stolen horse and tied it to the wood stand that was strategically placed in front of a drinking trough. He stood in front of the dusty, wooden steps that led up to a porch of sorts. He gazed at the odd-looking door. It could not lock and it had no top of bottom. How silly it was to have a door that could welcome criminals. He glanced at where he had come, seeing his crew mates a few yards off. With a shrug, Captain Kirkland strolled up the dusty steps, over the creaking porch, and into the dark saloon.

He looked around, taking in all of the glares of mysterious eyes and taking full notice in all of the hands clamped to their guns. Every customer in the saloon had a ten gallon hat or something of the like. Every last customer wore a vest of some type and close fitting pants, tucked into fine, leather boots with silver and gold spurs. Dirt was caked onto the floor as well as many of the men's faces. Captain Kirkland lifted his own boot and grimaced slightly at the filthiness of his own apparel. He dismissed it and looked at the bar tender who cleaned his glass mugs with the same dirty rag he used to clean the counter. The bar tender joined the rest of the cowboys and outlaws in gazing awkwardly at the captain; a regular fish out of water.

Captain Kirkland crossed his arms with a hard gaze. His two lean muscled crew mates stood on either side of him and his largest crew mate stood behind him. "Hmph," Captain Kirkland disapprovingly huffed and stomped over to the bar tender, "You," he so lovingly addressed the bar tender, "I'm looking for someone. Perhaps you could give me some direction and some rum." The bar tender took a dry glass out from a cabinet and filled it with whiskey.

One of the men, a cocky man that seemed to be thirty years or younger, commented to his friend, "Captain Feathers seems to be compensating for something." He took a gulp of his straight whiskey, finishing it off. With a drunken slur, he leaned back in his chair and laughed, "Why that's gotta be the stupidest accent I ever did hear!"

Captain Kirkland glanced at his strongest crew mate, motioning for him to collect the cocky man. As the crew mate stormed over to the man, the captain inspected his drink and swirled it a bit. He sipped it and his face contorted into a most distasteful snarl for a few seconds. He paused and took a heaping gulp as his strongest crew mate hung the cocky man by his boots behind the captain. Captain Kirkland stifled a groan as a woody fire slunk down his throat. He left the drink on the counter and turned to see the chest of the man who mocked him. It was true that the captain's face was a tad flushed, but the cocky man's cheeks were burning from the whiskey.

Captain Kirkland's eyes were still cruel and his voice was no more lenient, "What was that you said?" His right hand gripped his sword's hilt and drew his sword out from its sheath. He let the shining blade rest against the cocky man's neck, "Something about my accent or height?"

The cocky man gulped as fear embedded itself into his bright eyes, "N-no, I ain't talkin' 'bout yer height at all!" It was as if he became sober over the course of a few seconds.

The cocky man's friend stood and ran out of the saloon. The taller of the two lean muscled crew mates pointed his tanned thumb after the friend and asked, "Should we bring that guy back, Captain?"

Captain Kirkland's eyes stayed, gazing into the cocky man's eyes. There was now an air of careless humor floating around the captain's face. "No," he grinned maliciously, "let the coward leave." He paused and his grin relaxed a bit, "You said nothing? Nothing at all?" He slowed his second sentence to last until he was done taking his time dragging the tip of his blade across the cocky man's bare neck. A thin trail of blood trickled down under the man's chin and his cheek. A small whimper scampered out of the man's throat.

The poor excuses for doors were slammed open, causing bits of wood to fly a few feet from ground zero. A woman shouted, "HALT!"

Captain Kirkland gasped and yanked his sword across the man's neck, too far into it. "Oh," the captain looked down at his pants and boots, "Such a pity…" He held out his left hand to the shorter of the two lean muscled crew mates, physically asking for a cloth of some sort. The shorter crew mate took the bar tender's cloth and placed it in the captain's hand. The captain wiped the blood off from his shining sword and sheathed it. "Drop him," he commanded to his largest crew mate, who obeyed, and then the captain looked at the woman that had burst into the saloon.

Her cerulean eyes were large and full of determination. Her spectacles were perched at the bridge of her turned up nose and the softness of her cheeks matched her gentle complexion that was currently hidden under a thin layer of dust. There was one stubborn piece of curl that protruded from just above the right side of her forehead where her hair part was. Naturally, a beige hat was perched on her head, the sides waved up and the top dipped in the center. The thin rope that laced through her hat was tied under her chin to keep her hat on her head. Her curled, dirty blonde hair bounced about her long neck which was hidden under a blue and white starred bandana. Her cream gloved hands rested on her hips and her hefty chest was held together by a cream shirt that was tied into a strong, tight knot. Her torso gathered together neatly at her exposed and well toned midriff. Her hips were clothed with a coffee colored skirt with tan, thin beads that were spaced apart at the skirt's hem and stopped just above her knees. Her leather boots had intricate designs that were sewn into the ankles and golden spurs turned lightly in the wind. Her leather vest had a gold star pinned into the right breast section and it clearly stated 'Sheriff'. Judging from the yards of rope and two pearly white guns she had hanging from her leather belt, she was prepared to back up her title. The last thing Captain Kirkland noticed was her soft lips. How delicate they looked and it was as if they joined together to make a petite, pink rosebud above her firm chin.

**A-sama: The internet hates me today. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or anything affiliated with it. **

**A-Sama: Please don't kill me.**

Survival of the Toughest

Captain Kirkland held his liquor and swallowed to ease his burning throat. The cocky man's friend ran out to get the sheriff. His mind made the connection. "Wench," he addressed the woman, "you seem to look somewhat competent." He sheathed his sword and stepped over the newly dead body as he walked over to her. "We're looking for someone," he began.

The woman's palms stayed firmly on her hips, "You're under arrest, Stranger." Her pout seemed to have a serious edge to it and her adventurous eyes hardened ever so slightly.

Captain Kirkland held back an amused laugh. He spoke in his British accent, "What?"

Her voice rose a few decibels, demanding submission from all that doubted her, "I'm the self proclaimed sheriff 'round these parts and you're under arrest for killin' this fella." She gestured towards the dead man behind the captain.

The small, amused laugh that Captain Kirkland was trying to hold back escaped from between his dry lips. He rested his right hand on his white ruffled chest, "I'm not going to prison. I'm going to find someone."

He noticed her clear, blue eyes' stare slowly travel up to his precious hat. The lower lid of her right eye carefully lifted as her crisp eye brows knitted together. Her mouth opened slightly and her head tipped to the side as the right side of her nose twitched up. She licked her lips to remove the dry dust and to digest the colorful mass that clung to the top of Captain Kirkland's head, "You know, you're gonna get a black eye, wearin' them goose feathers 'round town."

Quite obviously, her attention span left much to be desired. The captain lost his cool composure and his emerald eyes grew cold as usual, "They are not goose feathers, you bloody wanker." He was only trying to have a civilized conversation with an obviously well endowed woman. "Now," he continued, "be a good girl and tell me where –"

The woman cut him off and stared into his eyes. Her eyes had dropped all formalities and were now wide with wonder. Her right thumb planted itself on her heart, "Good?" She let her hand open and pat her collar bone, "Why, I'm the best! Best shooter, best rider, best sheriff!" Captain Kirkland could have sworn he saw someone with that same composure a short while back. "C'mon," she interrupted his thoughts, "I've got a cell with your name on it."

She took the rope from her side and began to walk over to Captain Kirkland. He drew his sword and held it a few inches from the woman's nose. "If you're not going to help me find who I'm looking for, I'll permanently silence you now," he said with complete ease. The customers in the saloons' eyes watched the man and woman. Their eyes widened when they saw a grin slowly spread across the woman's face. They all knew what it meant and as fast as they could, each one of them sped out of the saloon without looking back. The captain thought this to be of little annoyance, because at the moment, his unfaltering gaze was locked with the woman's amused eyes. He swung his sword to his left, preparing to slice the woman's hidden neck open and as he did this, the woman squatted and leapt up. Quickly, the captain swung his sword to his right, to slice the woman's leg, but he narrowly missed. He watched with wide, green eyes as the woman landed with a thud on the table a few feet behind her.

Her gloved hands fit snugly on her hips and her grin stayed on her face. She lifted one of the pistols from her belt and shot Captain Kirkland's sword from his hand. She brought the tip of her pistol to her mouth and blew the rising smoke away, "Sir, you will never silence the great Ally L. Jones."

A wave of shock passed through Captain Kirkland's body as he remembered Ally's voice from his visit with Alfred. His eyes focused on the 'Sheriff' pin that gleamed from its spot on Ally's chest. It made perfect sense that a sister of Alfred's was a law official. He should have recognized it as soon as he saw her, but that did not matter. Either way, he was going to bring her back to New York with him. "Very well," he spoke, "I will not try to silence you." The captain wanted to bring Ally back east the easiest way he knew how, "All I want is my ship and hand fixed. I've asked Alfred if he would help me, but he's refused. Would you come with me back east and persuade him?"

With a confident and short laugh, Ally tucked her pistol back into its spot on her right hip, "There ain't nothin' ya'll can do to make me make Alfie do somethin' he don't want to do." Her eye lids dropped slightly to cover the top of her pupils to give her a more relaxed look. It was obvious that she had handled plenty of troublemakers before and she saw Captain Kirkland as the every day, flamboyantly dressed criminal.

Captain Kirkland noticed her relaxed composure and her lack of seriousness insulted him. His scowl deepened, "Such a pity. I was hoping to avoid some dirty work and save some time." He looked back at his trio that he had chosen to accompany him. The captain barked, "Fetch her!"

In a hurry, the men climbed over tables and dodged wooden chairs to get closer to Ally. The shortest of the trio had come in contact with the table Ally was standing on sooner than the other two and he thrusted his arms out to seize the female sheriff. Ally turned ninety degrees to her left so that the man was reaching for her right leg and bent over to her right, the palms of her beige gloves pressed onto the man's head. She bent her elbows so her head nearly touched the man's head and thrusted her body up, causing it to fly through the air again and land within a foot of the brawny crew mate. Captain Kirkland watched, his eyes widening with each trick Ally performed. The sheriff bent her upper body backwards and swung her boots up and with a great force the boots collided with the brawny man's chin. A snap resounded throughout the saloon; the sign that the brawny man's bottom and top teeth smashed together. The kick altered the man's balance, causing him to fall backwards onto the last of the three men. Ally watched the man topple backwards as she ended her handstand in front of Captain Kirkland.

She turned her head to face the captain with a confident grin plastered across her face. The captain's wide eyes searched through the sheriff's prideful eyes for some sign of weakness. He nearly gulped when he found none.

"Now," Ally turned her body completely to face Captain Kirkland, "am I going to have to drag you to the jail kicking and screaming?" As she spoke, the shortest man that was forced into the table earlier in the fight regained his composure. He turned to Ally's back and snuck up behind her. As soon as Ally's booming laugh arose again, he shoved Ally to Captain Kirkland. The captain's arms sprang up from their sides and his hands clutched Ally's wrists tightly. He called for his shortest crew member to hold her legs in place. The shortest man obediently kneeled and wrapped his arms around Ally's soft legs.

Ally struggled against Captain Kirkland's strength and her legs tried to resist being held firm. Wasting no time, the captain lifted the rope from Ally's belt and wrapped the rope around her wrists. To make sure that there was no slack, he yanked harshly, earning a wince and a small growl from Ally. As he finished with the first section of rope, he tied it together and Ally hissed, "You're a stinkin' pole cat and you can't make me do nothing."

"We'll see about that," The captain squatted and tied Ally's ankles together with a foot of rope between them to allow for walking. The other two crew mates stood, awaiting orders. The captain stood when he finished the tying. "Alright, lads, go prepare your horses," he ordered as he brushed his black gloved hands against each other. The three crew mates hurried out of the saloon and to the post to which they tied their stolen horses. The captain smirked at his handiwork and held onto Ally's tied wrists with his left hand. He walked out of the saloon, yanking Ally along and stopped at his horse. He gazed at her out of the corner of his eyes and asked, "Are you going to behave like a sensible hostage or do I have to carry you over the saddle and risk losing you your spectacles?" In response, Ally spat at Captain Kirkland's boots. Her head darted up to glare furiously at him. He narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, "I see." He climbed onto the horse's saddle and reached his arms around Ally's chest and under her arms. The captain yanked her up and laid her over his lap so that her stomach was prodded against the horn of the saddle. He used a third section of rope to tie above and below Ally's hips to the saddle's horn to make sure she stayed on the horse. After he finished, Captain Kirkland looked back to his crew and announced their departure, "It's time to go back to New York, men." The trio felt anxious to get back to their sea and they were thankful that they were leaving the west. The captain kicked his boots into the horse's sides, ordering it to run on the road they arrived on. The horse whinnied loudly and charged across the ground with the other three close behind.

After a minute had passed, Ally yelled up at Captain Kirkland, "Alright! Alright! Let me up!" She squirmed, "I'll sit like a lady should!"

Captain Kirkland glanced down at her pained expression, taking notice that her spectacles had fallen off. Oh, well, Ally could get a new pair in New York if she wanted to. "I don't know," the captain began, "I think I prefer you in this position." He smirked as he glanced at Ally's struggling body.

The horse leaped over a stone, jolting the horse and everything it carried. Ally shrieked, "Cap'n, let me up!" Captain Kirkland rolled his eyes and halted the horse. He untied the knot he had made in the rope and pulled Ally up into his lap. Ally sat against the horn of the saddle and Arthur pulled her arms over his shoulders and under his arms. He tied Ally's waist and his own together to secure her on the horse and then dug his heels into the horse's sides, causing the horse to run again. Captain Kirkland glanced down at Ally's chest. It was amazing that her shirt was still tied in its tight knot. He then realized that it must have hurt Ally terribly to go over those jumps. He almost felt guilty; almost.

The next seventeen days passed by quickly. The weather was growing warmer and summer arrived in Ohio. They were making good time, considering the fact that Ally had argued with Arthur every step of the way. In the beginning when they were in Kansas and Missouri, it was simply unbearable. Whatever Ally could find fault in, she would argue about it. Captain Kirkland had threatened her multiple times, but he never let her go. To be sure she would stay his prisoner; he slept beside her every night, wrapping her in his crimson coat to render her immobile. As they passed through Illinois and Indiana, Ally had argued less and the crimson coat had grown looser when Ally was wrapped in it. Finally, in Ohio, tension seemed to disappear at some points.

Captain Kirkland had been letting more and more of his inner gentleman and feelings out. Ally's presence and questionable behavioral patterns had left Arthur nicely bewildered. Ally was a pleasant mystery to Arthur. The way she could sleep in any position and on anything was amazing and just the slightest whisper of danger could wake her. When she did wake, Arthur would see her plentiful, golden lashes pull back and reveal her wondrous, cerulean eyes. They always looked a bit dazed, like luminescent pools of underground water that were undisturbed for long periods of time. Mere seconds after her waking up, those undisturbed pools would grow wide and flashes of sunlight would swim around within them. Arthur had concluded that the very essence of life was personified in this woman; all of the pleasure and all of the joy and freedom was locked away inside her.

Ally L. Jones had been taken from her home in the west and dragged across the country by a small band of pirates. Of course she was agitated and very unhappy that she was being held against her will. She would always work hard on driving the pirate captain over the deep end, but she was always unsuccessful. She often wondered how the captain could always hold his nerve. It was a part of Captain Kirkland that always tugged and yanked at Ally's nerves. She was always so free with her feelings and her exasperation, but she always saw the captain's feelings trapped behind lock and key. Not always, actually. There were only a few times that Ally could catch Arthur showing feeling. When he woke her in the morning, she could see the curious child in Arthur Kirkland's eyes. His emerald green eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, but only for a few seconds. Once he realized that his guard was down, he put it back up rather quickly. The other time that Ally could catch Arthur in feeling was when he took out an old, crimson ribbon and held it to his heart. Then and only then could Ally see fear and sadness nestled deep within those large, lonesome eyes. To be quite honest, every time Ally thought of that look in Captain Kirkland's eyes, it yanked her heart strings and twisted them.

Finally, the group was at the edge of Ohio and they stopped at the Ohio River. Captain Kirkland had ordered a break. He knew that they would be back in New York harbor within eight days, so he decided to give the horses a rest for a little while as well as his crew and Ally.

When they dismounted, Arthur untied Ally's wrists and ankles. For some reason he trusted her to stay close. "You can run around," Captain Kirkland explained, "but you have to come back here within five minutes of you leaving and you have to stay within earshot."

Ally agreed and then proceeded to run off. When Arthur could not see her anymore, he sat by the river as his crew members stretched and relaxed under the trees that allowed an abundance of shade. Arthur felt the right breast of his coat; the pocket where he kept the old, red ribbon that once belonged to Alfred. He pulled the ribbon out of the coat pocket and gazed at it. He looked at the scenery across the river, imagining him and young Alfred playing. Ally's booming laughter interrupted his thoughts. He looked behind himself to see Ally jabbering at his crew mates about a few strawberries she had found. A smile grew on Arthur's face as he looked back to where he imagined young Alfred was. He felt the ribbon and realized that he was never going to have those days back. With one glance at Ally, he knew that he had to look to the future instead of the past. He gazed at the crimson ribbon and brought it to his lips. It would hurt to let go, but in order to move on, it had to be done. He took in a deep breath and let the ribbon drop in the river. He watched it weave through the current and rocks until he could see it no longer.

Arthur exhaled his deep breath and then looked at his left hand. The black glove's tattered hole in the center of the palm reminded him of his run-in with Francis and Antonio. As of right now, he felt a little peeved, but the breeze and the sound of the river washed away the anger.

"I should probably change the bandages," he muttered quietly to himself. He winced as he pulled his glove off his hand and unwrapped the bandages carefully. Arthur examined his hand. It was caked in dried blood and the hole was smaller, but still there. At least he could not see completely through his palm. He heard a gasp come from behind him and he looked up to see Ally's shocked face.

Ally clutched the sides of her hat as she very nearly shrieked, "Your hand!" Instantly, she fell to her knees beside Arthur. She yanked and pulled on Arthur's crimson coat and succeeded in removing it from him. She turned it inside out and soaked it in the Ohio River.

Captain Kirkland watched with wide eyes, "What in God's name are you doing?"

Ally held onto Arthur's hand with one hand and clutched on to the red coat with the other. She scrubbed the dried blood off Arthur's hand as Arthur cussed and tried to pull away. "Hold still," Ally demanded as her hold grew stronger on him. Captain Kirkland winced and choked down moans of pain. Finally, he tried to stand, determined to get away from the agonizingly painful scrubbing. "I said hold still," Ally yanked on Arthur's arm, throwing him off balance. Arthur fell back into the river. His weight pulled at Ally, begging her to join in the water. The only parts of Ally that sunk underneath the water were her hands and forearms. "Hold on, Cap'n," Ally yelled to a submerged Arthur, "I'll have you out in a jiffy!" She held tighter onto Arthur's wrist and pulled him up and out of the river. She let go of him when she was sure that he was a few feet away from the water.

Arthur coughed up a few droplets of water. "Great," he growled, "now, I'm soaked."

"But at least you're alive," Ally stood, "You need to get out of those wet clothes. Go behind that tree over there and strip."

Infuriated that he was being ordered around, Captain Kirkland stood and loomed over Ally. All he could say to her was, "Hold your tongue." After they had shared a few seconds of unbroken eye contact, Arthur walked over to the tree and stripped behind it. Ally had ordered the largest of the three crew members to take off his shirt and give it to Captain Kirkland to wear while his clothes were drying. As soon as Arthur had put on the large, dry shirt, Ally hung up Arthur's clothes to dry. She kneeled beside him and took a small bag that was no bigger than the palm of her hand off her belt. She opened it and pulled out a roll of bandages. "Let me see your hand," She stated. Arthur showed Ally his hand and had expected her to cringe at the sight of it, but her face remained calm and focused. She wrapped his palm thoroughly, being sure to cover up every bit of the hole. When she was done, she put the glove over the hand again. "There," she whispered, "it's alright now." Arthur stared at his hand, thankful that it would heal better now. Ally smiled, "Don't you worry none; it'll be back to normal in no time."

Captain Kirkland did not meet Ally's gaze. "Thank you," he whispered just loud enough for Ally to hear, "thank you for saving my life and for rewrapping my hand."

Ally's smile temporarily disappeared, but as soon as it had disappeared, it reappeared. She whispered back, "Anytime, Kirky."

Arthur laughed breathlessly and shortly at the nickname. "Don't call me that," he glanced at her eyes. He tried to read her face and the most he was able to understand was that she would continue to call him 'Kirky' if he did not give her a better nickname. "If you must refer to me as something other than Captain, refer to me as Arthur."

"Alright, Arthur," Ally giggled softly. Rather suddenly, she stood and began to tell Arthur all about her ordeal while she was apart from the group. Arthur watched her fast movements and listened to her amplified voice. He was not intrigued by Ally's strawberry story, but more by the way she told her story. The faintest bit of color kissed Arthur's cheeks while he listened.

After the break was over, everyone mounted their horses. Arthur made sure to tie a rope around Ally's waist and tie the same rope to his own waist to help Ally stay on the horse. With little hesitation, he dug his heels into his horse's sides and off they galloped over the bridge and into Pennsylvania. Over the course of the next six days, Captain Kirkland had become more irritable little by little. When the group was within two days of arriving in New York's harbor, it seemed that Arthur had reached the end of his patience. He had demanded that they stop for a break. He cut his and Ally's rope and jumped down from his place on his horse. Arthur stormed past some foliage, desperately searching for privacy. He stopped at a small brook, glaring into the water and clenching his hands. A few days back, a dull throb emitted from Arthur's left hand. This, of course, did not bother him. He knew that he had made a tiring journey and he was not going to let it disrupt his concentration. A day after the throb began; a sharp pain seemed to rip through the palm and wrist of Arthur's left hand. There was a hotness that never left Arthur's body and it appeared shortly after the throb started. Both it and the pain had become more unbearable as the days passed.

Captain Kirkland cursed under his breath as he clutched his left wrist. Ally had followed Arthur to the brook and was generally worried for his impulse to stop the journey's progress. Arthur heard Ally's wary voice, "Arthur? Are ya alright? You've been pretty angry for a few days now – way more than usual."

"Hush up," Captain Kirkland said curtly, "I don't want to hear your obnoxious drabble." His grip on his left wrist tightened.

A spark of fury ran through Ally's body, nestling itself deep in her eyes, "My voice ain't obnoxious drabble, ya Brit! I'm worried about you! There's no need to get rude!"

Captain Kirkland turned to Ally and glared at her furiously. He hissed, "I told you to shut up, you incompetent cow wrangler!"

Ally gasped and stared at Arthur with pained eyes. Quickly, she tucked away her sadness and let loose her rage, "You're a stinkin' pole cat and an idiot! I don't know why I didn't run away when I had the chance! Who would ever want to be with a grouchy blowhard like you?" She bit her bottom lip in frustration and faced away from him, "You're nothin' but an old chiseler!"

As Captain Kirkland heard the western insults Ally threw at him, the pain in his hand stripped his nerves raw, making the least bit of arrogance intolerable. All Arthur knew was that he wanted Ally to shut up and to stop insulting him. Suddenly, Arthur thrusted his right arm out and gripped a section of Ally's hair. He yanked her back beside his chest and glared furiously into her surprised and pained eyes. He gripped her right hip with his left hand, trapping her against his chest and forced his lips against hers. Arthur could hear Ally's hesitant protests and he could see the waving of her arms, ordering him to stop. There was no way he would stop. He has wanted this kiss for longer than he'd like to remember. Finally, he found it in Ally L. Jones.

Ally opened her mouth and bit down on Arthur's bottom lip. Arthur let out a sharp moan of pain and pulled back from her. Ally pressed her hands against Arthur's chest and pushed him far enough away so he would let go of her. When he reluctantly did, she smacked her right hand across his face. Arthur stared wide eyed to his right, where the smack had made him look.

"I am a lady," Ally shouted and stomped, "and you've gotta treat me like a gentleman would treat a lady! You have no manners!" She stormed back to the horses, leaving Arthur with his throbbing hand and cheek.

Arthur held his left cheek with his right hand and then glared at his left hand. He cursed under his breath as he walked back to the horses, attempting to ignore his left hand. Without a word, he climbed back onto his horse with a little difficulty and pulled Ally up on his lap.

Ally watched only Captain Kirkland's hands as he tied their hips together. She heard him cuss under his breath as he had difficulty tying the knots. After tying the knots, Captain Kirkland kicked the heels of his boots into the horse's sides, causing it to take off again. The crew followed behind him. Ally remembered that all of the other times Arthur had tied the knots, he had been fast and skilled at doing so. She wondered why he suddenly had difficulty. She looked up at his face and saw that it was flushed. She rested her head against his chest to hear his heart. It was speeding and Arthur had been breathing harder. She looked closer and noticed how labored he looked. Ally hesitantly turned her gaze to see what was ahead and worried silently for him.

After a day, the harbor was in sight. "There it is, Lads," Captain Kirkland shouted behind him.

As the crew of three cheered, Ally watched as two ships pulled into the harbor. She saw the crews on the two new ships climb over onto Captain Kirkland's ship and take it over. Ally looked at Arthur, "Cap'n–"

"Hush," Captain Kirkland commanded. Arthur was concentrating on speeding up the horse to reach the harbor faster.

"But, Cap'n, the—" Ally was interrupted again.

Arthur glared into her eyes, "I said 'hush'!" Ally stayed quiet and looked back at the harbor. They were riding up the final street that let out onto the docks. Captain Kirkland's eyes widened as saw the entire dock taken up by the French and Spanish crews. Arthur yanked back on the reins of his horse and the crew of three behind him did the same.

Capitaine Francis Bonnefoy sauntered up to Captain Kirkland's horse with Capitán Antonio Carriedo smiling by his side. Captain Kirkland quickly untied the rope that bound Ally's waist to his and dismounted the horse. Captain Kirkland hissed, "What are you wankers doing here?" The French and Spanish crews surrounded the horses, waiting for an order.

"Bonjour," Capitaine Bonnefoy grinned.

"Hola," Capitán Carriedo gave a friendly wave, "someone told us you'd be here, Kirkland."

Captain Kirkland narrowed his eyes, a little confused. It was then that Alfred F. Jones walked out of the crew's crowd and he stood in front of Captain Kirkland. "I figured you'd pull something like this, Arthur," Alfred growled. Captain Kirkland mentally cursed as a smile appeared on Ally's face. "You obviously can't be trusted to walk out of here alive," Alfred kept his same poisonous tone.

Ally's eyes widened a bit as her smile fell from her face. She knew where this was headed. Quickly, Ally jumped down from the horse, "Wait, Alfie! There's something I have to talk to you about in your office!" She pushed past Captain Kirkland and took a hold of Alfred's right hand. "It's very important – it can't wait," Ally spoke in a rushed voice.

Alfred watched his sister and looked back at Captain Kirkland. He paused and then spoke in a small voice, "You two didn't…did you?"

Ally shook her head vigorously, "No, no, Alfie, we didn't. There's something different I have to talk to you about, so come on!" She tugged on Alfred's hand.

Alfred turned to Capitaine Bonnefoy and Capitán Carriedo. "Take Kirkland to a jail cell. I'll have a talk with him later," Alfred ordered and then allowed his sister to pull him to his office.

Captain Kirkland watched as Capitaine Bonnefoy and Capitán Carriedo walked towards him. He glared at their amused faces and thought of how sickening it was to be trapped by them. He waited until they had walked past him to turn and follow them. His furious gaze seemed to bore through the French man's and the Spaniard's skulls. Captain Kirkland's right hand wandered towards his left upper arm. As he stared straight ahead, his fingertips of his right hand dug into his left upper arm. He was led into a small jailhouse and Capitán Carriedo happily opened a jail cell for him. Captain Kirkland held back a snarl as he stiffly and reluctantly walked into the jail cell. Capitaine Bonnefoy locked the cell door and smiled, pleased by the appearance of Arthur Kirkland behind bars.

A deep growl slowly emanated from Captain Kirkland's throat, "Is something funny, you manky prat?"

Capitán Carriedo's smile faded. Yes, Captain Kirkland always had a good amount of venom to spit at him and Capitaine Bonnefoy, but there was a flicker of pure rage in the prisoner's eyes. "Capitán Bonnefoy, maybe we should leave him alone," Capitán Carriedo stood at Capitaine Bonnefoy's left.

"Mon ami," Capitaine Bonnefoy rested his left hand on Capitán Carriedo's right shoulder, "there are iron bars between him and us. He cannot do us any harm whether he likes it or not. Besides," He let his hands fall to his hips, "his behavior is no different from usual. He is always a spiteful, ungentlemanly, little man."

Captain Kirkland turned quickly towards Capitaine Bonnefoy and stood right against the bars. His furious, emerald eyes meant grim death to whoever decided to insult him. His voice enunciated each syllable in his command, "Belt up, you bloody arsehole!" He grinded his teeth as he lowered his tone, "I will gut you if you open your skanky mouth one more time." After making sure that Capitaine Bonnefoy knew he was serious, Captain Kirkland turned away from the two other men in the room and sat on the dirty floor. He stared at the floor as his fingertips on his right hand continued to dig into his upper left arm.

Alfred opened the door to the jailhouse and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him as he began to speak, "Fine, Arthur, I'll fix your stupid hand," He walked over to the bars and squatted directly behind Captain Kirkland, "but I'm only giving you enough supplies so that you can just barely make it to Europe." He waited for his prisoner to answer. When he didn't, Alfred became annoyed, "Arthur, I said I'll fix your stupid hand and ship! Speak!"

Arthur merely turned his head and glared at Alfred. It was then that Alfred's nose caught a hold of a foul scent. Alfred scrunched his nose up in disapproval, "What's that disgusting odor…?" He sniffed away from Captain Kirkland, but the trail of smell led back to him. "It's coming from you, Iggy," Alfred's eyes that had been cold to Arthur seemed to have a hint of worry in them.

"Belt up, you stupid git," Captain Kirkland hissed, "I've been parading around the west for 50 days!"

"No," Alfred sniffed closer to Arthur and then spoke, "it smells worse than that." Alfred visually inspected Arthur as best as he could, ignoring the bars between them. He noticed that Arthur's right hand was gripping onto his left upper arm. "Give me your hand," Alfred demanded as he yanked Arthur's left wrist between the bars.

A short-lived yell of pain shot out of Captain Kirkland's mouth as Alfred tugged the black glove off of Arthur's bandaged hand. Alfred's eyes widened as he saw the bandages were soaked. Quickly, Alfred pulled off the bandages and nearly gagged. Arthur's left hand resembled that of a burn victim's corpse. The hand was completely black and the hole through the palm had not healed. There was bodily fluid seeping out of the hole and shriveled twigs had taken place of what was once healthy and muscular.

Capitaine Bonnefoy and Capitán Carriedo looked over Alfred's shoulder. Each man gasped and covered their mouths. Alfred had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the gruesome sight of the flesh eating disease that ravaged Arthur's hand. He looked at Arthur's wrist, noticing that the black proof of the disease did not only manifest the hand. He pulled Arthur's crimson jacket off of Arthur's left arm to see how fast the disease had spread. Alfred pulled up Arthur's sleeve and a terrified thought sunk into his head.

Immediately, Alfred unlocked the jail cell and pulled Arthur out. He threw Arthur over his shoulder and hurried out of the jailhouse. Captain Kirkland yelled, "Put me down, Alfred! I can run on my own, you insufferable bugger!"

Alfred ignored Arthur's angered protests and focused on putting him in the hospital as soon as possible. He ran inside the hospital and sat Arthur down on one of the beds. "Stay here," Alfred demanded and then he ran out of the room to find the doctor. Arthur muttered various obscenities to himself as he gripped his upper left arm in pain. The pain was all that was shooting through Arthur's mind. The excruciating pain ripped at his nerves as he lay down to try and calm it. The smell of decay and the burning heat of his fever made Arthur want to wish it was all over.

Alfred ran back into the room with a handful of doctors behind him. "Here he his, Doctor," He looked back at one of the doctors, "look at his arm." The doctor spoke aloud the symptoms of the disease as he saw them and then told Alfred what they planned to do to stop it.

Arthur ignored every word they said. His heart pounded in his ears and all he could do was breathe and whine in pain.

"Arthur," Alfred leaned over his former older brother, "Arthur, listen to me. The disease you have is gangrene and the doctors are going to stop it. They're going to give you some chloroform and they're going to operate. Do you understand, Arthur?"

Arthur Kirkland's glazed eyes met with Alfred's gaze. A nurse pressed a cloth that was moistened with chloroform over Arthur's nose and mouth. As he breathed in the chloroform, Arthur saw the spirited, dependent, worried, little boy he had always cared for in Alfred's eyes. Arthur's eyelids fell closed and he tried to picture a world without pain and without loneliness.

Arthur's mind wandered about, dreaming of happiness. He dreamed he was back in the 1600's when he first met Alfred. He recalled how happy and how energetic Alfred used to be towards him. He dreamed that Alfred had grown up right in front of eyes and Alfred had turned away from him. When Arthur rested his hand on Alfred's shoulder, Alfred shrunk a few inches and his hair grew out. The new person had turned to face Arthur. Alfred had turned into Ally. Her smile was full of compassion and her eyes were relieved to see Arthur. She closed the distance between her and Arthur and wrapped her arms around his neck. Arthur held her and kissed her. So this was bliss. This is what Arthur had wanted.

Before the kiss was over, Arthur had opened his eyes. He looked to his left to see the harbor out the window. He looked to his right to see Ally sitting beside him, watching the ships in the harbor. By the look on her face, she did not see that Arthur was awake yet. Arthur groaned a bit to imply that he was awake, "Ally."

Ally immediately looked to her left and leaned towards Arthur, "Arthur!" She had a look of huge relief on her face and it made Arthur smile softly.

Then the chloroform completely lost its influence. An incredible, throbbing pain dug through Arthur's left shoulder. Arthur bit his lip and winced violently. His breath came out weakly as he attempted to move his left hand to his forehead. He paused and his eyes widened.

"…Arthur…" Ally spoke quietly, "I'm so sorry." Arthur looked to his left and saw the bed sheets bare. He sat up and stared, horrified at his left shoulder. Ally rested a hand on Arthur's right shoulder, "You should stay lying down, Arthur; that area hasn't healed yet."

"My…" Arthur barely uttered, "My arm… It's gone!"

"Lie back down, Arthur," Ally spoke her normal tone to convey that Arthur really should not move after an amputation. "The doctor told Alfred that the gangrene had already spread through your elbow. The only way to save your life was to…cut off your arm."

Arthur repeated the name of the disease under his ragged breath. He thought back to the moment Capitaine Bonnefoy's bullet shot through his hand. His soft and uneven breath grew stronger as a new feeling took over him. It was ultimately Francis's fault that he had lost his arm, Arthur thought.

Ally saw Arthur's composure change. Her sympathy turned wary as she noted that Arthur started glaring. She whispered, "…Arthur?" Immediately, Arthur's right hand grabbed a gun from Ally's belt. He climbed out of bed and stormed out of the hospital. Ally stood and followed close behind him, "Arthur, what are you doing? Come back!" Arthur did not speak to Ally. He was focused solely on finding Capitaine Bonnefoy. He stopped at the docks and saw his target turn and look at him from five feet away.

Capitaine Bonnefoy stared at Arthur and noticed the fact that his left arm was gone. He winced, "Capitaine Kirkland, your arm…" He let his words trail off.

Arthur lifted the gun and aimed it between Capitaine Bonnefoy's eyes. He yelled, "I know my arm is gone, you bloody prat!" Pure fury swarmed throughout Arthur's body as he cocked the gun. He growled, "My arm is gone and it's all your fault! I'm taking revenge with interest!"

Capitaine Bonnefoy's eyes widened as he held up his hands in protest. He spoke in a careful tone, trying to calm Arthur, "Capitaine Kirkland, calm down. You are just overreacting."

Arthur repeated, "Overreacting?" He shouted, his hand was shaky and gripping the gun with all its might, "My bloody arm is completely gone, you putrid, idiotic son of a-"

"Arthur," Ally interrupted Arthur and ran past him to stand between him and Capitaine Bonnefoy, "please stop!" Her sympathetic eyes tried to console Arthur. Her voice lowered, "Please, Arthur, don't shoot him. It won't get you your arm back." Arthur still held the gun firmly in his hand and his eyes were still clouded by anger. She walked past the gun and closed the distance between herself and Arthur. "Arthur," she spoke softly and wrapped her arms around his torso, "I know that you're devastated for losing your arm, but the important thing is that…," Ally kissed Arthur's cheek, "I love you and nothing can ever change that."

Arthur's glare melted into a blank stare. He turned his head to look at Ally. He saw the worry in her eyes and her trembling lips. He could tell she was afraid to share her feelings, but she had done so to make him happy. Arthur dropped the gun and then held her as best as he could. He pressed his lips onto Ally's, finally seizing what he truly wanted all along.

**A-Sama: Again, please don't kill me. It had a semi-happy ending. :)**


End file.
